


Love in the time of Coronavirus

by sublime42



Series: Modern Times (Modern Witcher AU) [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Love Story, M/M, Weight Gain, chubby!Jaskier, isolated geralt, isolated jaskier, modern coronavirus AU, social distancing failure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublime42/pseuds/sublime42
Summary: Jaskier and Geralt live in the same apartment building during the pandemic. They've never spoken to each other until now.(Please read the tags and the note!)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Modern Times (Modern Witcher AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710406
Comments: 23
Kudos: 188
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not trying to make light of the current situation - I've lost three family members to covid19 so far, so I get how terrible it is - this was just a little mental escape for myself.

Jaskier was _bored_. 

For three weeks he had been in isolation and all he had accomplished was writing half of a song and gaining ten pounds due to depression and boredom eating.

He knew he should probably do something about it; his jeans were leaving legit red marks on his belly now, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The gym was closed anyway. 

Sighing, he grabbed another bag of chips and sat down to watch a movie.

00

The movie was fairly interesting, but Jaskier's concentration broke when he heard his neighbor's apartment door open. He paused the film to listen.

Geralt, who lived in the unit across from him, intrigued him. Tall, muscular and extremely quiet, no one in the building knew what he did. The little old woman (who had given Jaskier like, twenty bags of chips, by the way) swore that Geralt was a mob enforcer. Pedro, who Jaskier often met in the building's laundry room, said he heard Geralt was in construction. And of course Janet, the resident crazy cat lady, believed that Geralt was a hitman. 

Jaskier wasn't so sure about any of that. Geralt seemed intelligent, and very organized. The few times Jaskier had gotten a look at his apartment, it looked spotless, and Geralt seemed to leave for days at a time. His personal guess was that Geralt was a secret agent with MI6.

00

Hearing Geralt's footsteps inside, Jaskier got up and grabbed his laptop, pausing to take a carton of ice cream from the fridge. There were no spoons available so he chose a fork. No one was watching him anyway, what did it matter?

After enjoying a few bites of triple chocolate chunk ice cream he opened his browser. There were a few emails from his father, asking him if he needed more money (no bars open meant no shows which meant no income), and one from a fellow singer he had met a few months prior, just catching up.

The note from his father depressed him somewhat. Here he was, age thirty two, and still taking rent money from dad. Granted, he had supported himself just fine for years. He had just never expected a plague.

With that thought in mind he continued to eat mindlessly, not caring that he was dripping chocolate down his shirt. He only took notice when he realized all the ice cream was gone. Somehow he had eaten the entire quart of it. Yeah, he was going to get _so_ fat.

Frowning, he pushed the empty container away and started digging into the items that _really_ interested him.

Geralt didn't have a social media presence of his own, but if one looked hard enough, there were traces of him.

One particularly insightful Facebook page, belonging to someone named Yennefer had a ton of information. 

Apparently Yennefer and Geralt had dated for a while. There were photos of them together at weddings, on an island somewhere (Jaskier had saved those photos as Geralt was shirtless in them), and other ones at various functions. Yennefer was still friends with Geralt's father, Vessimir, which was how Jaskier had found her in the first place.

Apparently his father was strong as well. He had a similar build as Geralt and his profile stated that he grew up only two towns over. Yennefer also listed the same hometown, so Jaskier concluded that prior to moving to the building, Geralt was a local. 

Really, Jaskier wished he could just _talk_ to him. See what he was into. But the man was just so gorgeous, he knew he was out of his depth. 

Well, he could admire Geralt in secret. It was better than nothing.

00

He hadn't expected to run into Geralt in the laundry room. He had simply gone at a different time than normal. With nothing to do all day, Jaskier's sleep schedule was fucked so there he was, doing laundry at four am when Geralt walked in.

Geralt nodded at him in greeting and moved to one of the machines to input his clothes. Jaskier watched him for a moment.

When Geralt was done, he turned to look at Jaskier. He glanced at him initially, but then he took a deeper look. 

It surprised and embarrassed Jaskier. He was wearing a grungy old band shirt and a pair of sweats, since those were the most comfortable pants that fit right then. 

"You're in 12b, right?" Geralt asked.

"Yup. We're neighbors," Jaskier answered. 

Geralt looked him over again.

"I'm Geralt," he offered. 

"Julian. But my stage name is Jaskier. I'm a musician."

Geralt nodded, but said nothing else. 

Finally, he turned to leave.

"Perhaps I'll see you around soon," he said, as he walked out. "Let me know if you need anything. We're in this together and all."

"Um. You, too!" Jaskier replied, somewhat stunned.

00

Three days and four more pounds later (Jaskier was _really_ bored), there was a knock at the door.

Jaskier paused the song he was listening to and stood to answer it, shifting his jeans lower so they fit better.

It was Geralt, of all people. And he was carrying food.

Jaskier opened the door.

"Hi," he greeted. 

"I got takeaway and they gave me extra. I wondered if you wanted it. I'm not sick or anything," Geralt said, "I won't eat it all myself."

Jaskier had just eaten lunch, but this was a chance to share a meal with Geralt! The opportunity might never come again!

"Sure. Thanks!" He said, "You want to come in, or…"

"You can come to mine. If you like, I mean."

"Great," Jaskier said, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. "Let's go."

00

It turned out that Geralt was truly a minimalist. Everything in his apartment had a use, and everything was in its proper place. He led Jaskier to a small table in the kitchen and set the food down, then turned to get plates and utensils.

After setting the table he opened the fridge. 

"Beer?" He offered. 

"Please." Jaskier figured a little social lubricant couldn't hurt things.

Geralt really had bought a ton of food. Easily enough for four people. He encouraged Jaskier to take whatever he wanted.

Jaskier helped himself to a bowl of noodles and several dumplings before speaking again.

"So, Geralt. What do you do?"

Geralt stared at him for a moment.

"The other neighbors think I kill people."

Jaskier was surprised he had heard the rumors. 

"Well, they're idiots. Truly."

"Hmm," was Geralt's only response. 

He ate silently for a while.

"I'm work in private security," Geralt finally told him. 

"Huh,” Jaskier said. "That must be interesting.”

“Sometimes,” was Geralt’s response. "And you...sing? And play guitar. And drums. I hear you sometimes."

Jaskier smiled and finished his plate.

"Correct. Not much music making going on lately though."

Geralt frowned, and pushed the remaining food towards Jaskier. 

"I'm sorry. It must be boring for you."

"Somewhat. But I get by," Jaskier said, as he piled more food onto his plate. He knew he shouldn't eat it. He was way beyond full. But doing so meant more time with Geralt, so it was worth the pain.

00

Jaskier returned to his apartment feeling like he had swallowed a bag of concrete. His stomach stuck out in front of him, throwing off his center of balance somewhat. He hated to think what a glutton Geralt must consider him. Though he seemed almost _happy_ that he had eaten so much. Strange.

Still, he had no regrets. He’d probably learned more about Geralt than he had expected. 

He walked into his bedroom, kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his pants, content on lying around and thinking about his new friend.


	2. Chapter 2

The world was ending. 

At least, that was how the news made it seem. It was all horribly depressing, and now it was getting to where Jaskier actually knew people who were getting sick, which only made him all the more nervous and sad.

Due to those feelings, he had wiped out his remaining food and booze supply way faster than he had anticipated, and was currently sitting on his couch, somewhat buzzed, trying to make a coherent shopping list.

He’d just finished up when there was a knock on the door. He hoped it was no one important, considering he was only dressed in pajama bottoms. It never occurred to him that it might be Geralt. He hadn’t heard anything from him in nearly a week.

Yet, there he was, in all his godlike glory, bulging muscles visible through his thin, fitted shirt. It made Jaskier feel somewhat… lesser… in comparison. 

“Geralt!” He said, surprised. “How are you?”

Geralt opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked Jaskier over, before opening his mouth again.

“If I disturbed you -” he started.

“No, no. Sorry for this,” he gestured to himself, “Just sitting around in a bit of misery listening to the news. What can I do for you?”

“Hmm.” Geralt thought Jaskier’s words over. “I was going to the store and thought you might need some things. My immune system is good, so it’s probably less of a risk for me to go than for you.”

“Really? Wow, I literally just made a list!” Jaskier moved to get it, and handed it over. “I can give you my card, or venmo you?”

Geralt shrugged.

“We can work it out. See you soon.”

And with that, he was gone.

00

Jaskier was wearing actual clothes when Geralt returned. He had on his biggest pair of jeans (which actually fit normally, now) and a clean shirt and he had even shaved. Something about Geralt just made him want to be better.

The larger man knocked on his door, and when Jaskier opened it, he entered carrying several reusable bags.

“They had almost everything, except Lucky Charms, which I think are for a children? But, yeah. It’s all here. And a few other things. Where’s your kitchen?”

"Not just for kids, but it's over there," Jaskier pointed to the left and watched as Geralt walked in and placed the bags down.

“Thank you so much,” Jaskier said, once Geralt was done. “How much do I owe?”

“Nothing.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

“No, you can’t expect me not to pay you. Come on, Geralt. Tell me how much it was.”

“No. You said you were miserable. Maybe now you’ll feel slightly less miserable.” Geralt managed a small smile, and Jaskier thought it was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. Suddenly, he felt a lot happier, and he smiled back.

“Thank you, Geralt. That’s really sweet of you.”

The two men stared at each other in the doorway for a long minute, before Geralt finally took a step back.

“You’re welcome. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Same here,” Jaskier answered.

00

Geralt took his task of ‘making Jaskier less miserable’ seriously, because beyond the groceries that Jaskier had asked for, there were three boxes of cookies, two containers of ice cream and two giant family sized bags of chips.

These were, of course, probably the last things Jaskier should be eating, but they were there, and he was hungry, and peanut butter chocolate cookies tasted better than a sandwich.

After eating the entire box he was less sure that it was a good idea. His stomach actually hurt from all the sugar in it and he tried to soothe himself by rubbing it. 

He lay on the couch, imagining Geralt to get his mind off it. He briefly wondered if Geralt would find him disgusting, or what his reaction might be. He was starting to get the feeling that Geralt liked larger men, but he wasn’t sure. Just, those looks Geralt had given him… they didn’t seem out of disgust, but more of attraction. 

Plus, there had been all the food that Geralt seemed to be giving him. It had to mean _something_. 

His stomach groaned again, bringing him back from those thoughts. He closed his eyes and tried to picture kissing Geralt, hoping that the beautiful thought would chase his pain away.


	3. Chapter 3

Four days later, Jaskier got word that his grandmother died. He hadn’t been allowed to say goodbye in person, as she had been sick with the virus, and the thought that she had died alone dug into Jaskier like a knife.

He couldn’t help but cry. The woman had raised him for part of his childhood, and he couldn’t even hold her hand as she passed.

He must not have realized how loud he was, because there was a soft knock at the door. 

Jaskier contemplated ignoring it, but ultimately decided to answer if only because he really wanted to talk to someone about what he was feeling. Maybe it would be Janet the cat lady. She was a good listener.

But, no. Of course it was Geralt. He looked concerned.

“Jaskier,” he said, eyes wide as he took in the younger man’s state. “I heard you crying. What’s wrong?”

Jaskier sniffled and let Geralt into the room, leading him to the couch.

“My grandmother died,” Jaskier told him, his eyes welling up again. “I couldn’t say goodbye. She died by herself.”

Geralt wasn’t sure what to say to that so he settled for something simple.

“I’m so sorry,” he replied, sincerely. “That’s horrible.”

Jaskier sniffled, trying to hold back more tears.

Geralt truly seemed at a loss for words. Finally, awkwardly, he shifted closer to Jaskier.

“Um. Here,” He pulled Jaskier into a hug. “Maybe this will help.”

Jaskier almost melted into Geralt, the feeling of human contact breaking him down further. How long had it been since he had so much as shaken someone’s hand? 

He clung to the larger man and began to sob again. Geralt simply rubbed Jaskier’s back and held him.

They stayed that way for several minutes, until Jaskier felt like he couldn’t cry anymore. He had gone from upset to exhausted. Slowly, he pulled back from Geralt. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I...I got tears and snot all over you. I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”

Geralt shook his head.

“Don’t be. It’s okay to be upset. She was your grandmother.”

Jaskier sniffled and nodded.

“Thank you.”

“You look tired,” Geralt said, “Maybe you should lie down.”

Jaskier nodded, sniffling again.

“Probably.”

Geralt glanced around the room, noting that there was a throw blanket and a pillow on the edge of the sofa. He stood and picked it up. 

“Here.” He placed the pillow on one side of the couch and waited for Jaskier to lie down before covering him with the blanket. “Get some rest. Maybe… Maybe later, when you feel like it, you can tell me about her.”

Jaskier nodded and yawned.

“I think I’d like that,” he answered.

“Sleep well,” Geralt said, before heading out.

00

When Jaskier woke again, he felt numb. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it was better than feeling so upset that he couldn’t function.

Unsure of what to do, he found his guitar and started playing.

“Malaguena” was the first song that his grandma had taught him. She had played the guitar for fun, and when Jaskier had lived with her had taught him what she knew. He thought back to how they would sit in her yard and play together. She was so patient, never chiding him if he failed to learn the correct chords. 

He wished that they could at least have a wake, at least have a chance to truly say goodbye, but it wasn’t an option. 

He played the song again and again, slowly feeling somewhat better as he did it.

00

By the next day, Jaskier felt somewhat normal. Still sad, still hurting, but not quite as bad. He was starting to come to terms with things. He realized that he had never thanked Geralt for his kindness, and decided that it might be a good idea to see if he was around. In fact, he was, so Jaskier invited him over for dinner.

The main issue was finding something to wear. He had one pair of jeans that fit if he wore them low, but it didn’t look great. He rooted around in his closet and found a pair of black dress pants that he’d accidently bought a size up, which now fit perfectly. Paired with a large sweater, he looked decent, though he made a mental note to buy some new clothes online.

He couldn’t bring himself to shave or do his hair too nice. Just the act of finding nice clothes took a lot out of him and he feared trying to do more would waste whatever little energy he had left. 

Jaskier did his best to clean up the living room (he didn’t have a kitchen table, unlike Geralt), and ordered delivery, not feeling up to cooking either.

Geralt turned up exactly on time, wearing black pants and a lovely gray shirt that emphasized his chest and shoulders. Once again, Jaskier felt somewhat unworthy of Geralt’s attention, but he did his best to push aside the thought.

“I bought these for you,” Geralt said, handing over a bouquet of iris flowers. Their stems were carefully wrapped in blue wrapping paper. 

“I… oh, wow.” Jaskier took the flowers, “These are gorgeous. Where did you get them? I thought the florists were closed.”

“My client has a big garden and let me take them. I told him they were for someone important.”

Jaskier smiled, a true smile, and looked down at the flowers once again. 

“They’re perfect,” he said, “I love them. Only problem, I don’t have a vase. No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”

Geralt looked surprised.

“Really?”

When Jaskier nodded, Geralt spoke again.

“That’s alright. I have an extra one. I’ll get it. Be right back.”

00

Jaskier smiled again as Geralt left.

 _Important._ Geralt thought that he was _important_.

When Geralt returned, he was holding both a vase and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“I made these earlier, too. For dessert,” he explained.

Jaskier grinned.

“You’re spoiling me!”

Geralt came as close to a blush as he might ever manage, and shrugged.

“Just wanted to cheer you up.”

“You have. Truly,” Jaskier replied.

00

That night, over italian food and wine, Jaskier told Geralt all about his childhood. How his parents had split, and how he’d been sent to live with his grandmother for nearly two years while his father restarted his life. She had always treated him kindly and he hadn’t wanted to leave when his father finally returned.

In turn, Geralt mentioned how his own mother had run off, abandoning him and his father, leaving them both to fend for themselves. He understood how Jaskier must have felt. But whereas Jaskier turned to creative passions to release his stress, Geralt had turned to physical pursuits - sports and bodybuilding. He explained how he liked to get his rage out by lifting heavy weights or running sprints. 

“You are in phenomenal shape,” Jaskier remarked. “I wish I could be so dedicated to myself. I’m sure my clothes would still fit if I was.” 

“It takes getting used to. But, you can always just buy new clothes,” Geralt answered. 

“True. Still, I’ve let myself go a bit. Or a lot,” he noted. He knew he was fishing for compliments, but he wanted to see how Geralt would react.

“I… think you look great,” Geralt responded. 

He was looking Jaskier straight in the eyes as he said it, and Jaskier knew he was being sincere.

“I think you’re very attractive,” Geralt continued. “I hope that’s alright.”

Jaskier grinned.

“So proper. Of course it’s alright! I find you very attractive too! For a long time now. I just never thought you’d be interested in me.”

Geralt nodded.

“Well, I am.”

And that was it. 

The two were silent for a moment, before Jaskier leaned in to kiss Geralt. 

It was better than he expected. His heart raced as Geralt kissed him back passionately, biting his lips and sucking his tongue. For such a loner, Geralt was a great kisser.

When the two finally broke apart, Jaskier felt like he’d run a marathon, his heart racing as fast as it was.

“I really, really liked that,” he said, eyes wide.

“Me too,” Geralt agreed.

00

The virus abated three months later, and by then, Geralt and Jaskier had consolidated their belongings into Geralt’s apartment. They were moving fast, but they were in love and each day their love seemed to grow. Along with that, Jaskier’s waistline had also grown. He’d put on nearly forty pounds since quarantine began, but was feeling a lot less self conscious, especially since Geralt seemed to love his appearance. He’d finally admitted that he preferred men with a little chub to them about a month after they got together.

Jaskier assumed his weight would steady out as he could go outside and move around once again, but even if it didn’t, he wasn’t too worried.

Who would have thought that such a terrible virus would bring the two of them together? Perhaps it was destiny? 

Jaskier wrote that down in his lyric book, trying to find a nicer way to say it in the love song he was writing for Geralt.


End file.
